


Lonely

by peachspace



Category: Youtuber RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Gay, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of self harm?, Suicide mention, probably not gonna write the graphic shit, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5253773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachspace/pseuds/peachspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean is a happy person, he loves his friends and his family but... He's alone. A lot. And being that alone... Well, it gets to a guy. He gets lonely, and sometimes it's hard to handle.<br/>Mark helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm fucking lonely

**Author's Note:**

> I was really lonely when I wrote this, So... Yeah, it's kind of dark. I do plan on finishing it, and the end will most likely be very fluffy and sweet, so... Just endure the angst for now ^^

4,119 miles from Ireland to America.  
4,119 fucking miles.  
Jack can feel every single one, pulling at him and stretching his skin just a bit too thin.  
Maybe those - every one of those miles, are why Jack has the hole in his gut, this thing in him that causes so much pain.  
Why he wakes up in the middle of the night with a darkness in his chest, constricting his lungs and keeping him from being able to breathe properly.  
Humans aren't meant to be solitary creatures, Jack knows this. They need someone to laugh with, someone to hold them when they cry, and someone to sit with in silence. He has none of that, and the absence screams at him during his waking hours, always looming in the edges on his mind

He's so fucking lonely. 

Jack wakes up every morning to silence, And he spends the whole day trying to fill the silence with something. Anything. He's desperate.  
When he records it subsides, he feels like he has friends and everything is okay for just a little while.  
Jack isn't silent about this problem, he sometimes mentiones it in videos. He jokes about having no friends, saying he only befriends YouTubers successfully - Nobody notices it.  
Sometimes he even jokes with Mark about it, And he sees the little flicker of worry in the other's eyes while he speaks so sadly of his solitary nature, often followed by a little bit of silence as Jack struggles to say something to make a joke of it.  
That happens more than he'd like to admit, he intends to make a joke about his own lifestyle; how quiet it can be, how somber, and whoever he is talking to won't laugh like he expects. Instead, their eyes take on an awful questioning glint and grow worried. It's like the kind of look you give someone who has been crying but obviously doesn't want it acknowledged, one of thinly veiled concern.  
The look is all too kind, but also wary, likes he's a cornered animal about to snap. It makes Jack sick. He thinks that's what he hates the most about this problem. He can't express it without seeing that look. 

Today is bad. Jack knows it when he wakes. The house is always silent, but today it's too silent. He always feels cold, but today the chill has traveled into his bones. He immediately queues up some videos, knowing he won't be able to record with this thing rearing its ugly head.  
He lays in bed for too long to be productive and basks in the dreadful feeling of the day slipping away. When he finally gets up the sky is dark. He isn't sure if it's extremely early or extremely late, but he knows that either way he isn't going to get anything done.

Jack manages to make breakfast, a large serving of scrambled eggs. It smells delicious, and the sight of food has his stomach growling loudly, but the serving is too large for him alone. He could probably just put it in a container and eat it later, but... Jack finds himself grimacing and dumping it all into the trash, ignoring the protests of his gut. It's stupid, but if he can't share it with someone, What's the point?

Ireland is desolate-- or, it is when your neighbors are as good as strangers. Honestly, nobody would notice if he up and disappeared, The only ones who would know would be his fans.  
Well, and his YouTuber friends, he's pretty sure they would notice him not putting up videos, especially without a warning.  
Or maybe they wouldn't. They probably would be too caught up in their own lives to notice until his neighbors did, weeks afterwards, and by then, what would be left?

His breath hitches and he shakes his head slightly. Too dark. Those thoughts are too dark. He's a happy person, but when he loses that, when he runs out of cheer... he's left with nothing.  
This feeling would be bad even if he had someone to talk To, but since he's alone... 

He can't. He's so sick of feeling like this, feeling cold and empty and alone and...  
He can't. 

And icy resolve settles over him as he sits there, feeling sick and defeated because he can't. Thousands - no, millions of people look up to him and he fucking can't. 

As he thinks all this, he finds himself glancing at the kitchen counter. His hands shake. Just then, a knock came from his door.


	2. Manage me, I'm a mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out who the person at his door is! Because you totally couldn't find out just by looking at the tags...
> 
> (ALSO, I had an idea with the chapter titles, I edited the previous one. It's all gonna be lyrics from songs by a certain band. If you guess the band correctly, I'll write a septiplier one-shot for you with your choice of plot.)

Jack jerked open the door and saw, well, quite frankly, the last person he expected to see. Mark, Mark Fischbach was standing on his doorstep, coat being tugged at harshly by the cold wind of Ireland. His dorky pink hair stuck about in disarray, making him look stupidly endearing.

  
                “Mark?" Jack breathed, taking a step back, and then another. What was happening? It was a strange feeling, honestly. He'd been so completely and utterly convinced that he was alone and then... One of his few close friends showed up on his doorstep. It was almost enough to curb the dark feeling in his chest....  _Almost._  
  
Mark was staring at him openly, his cheesy grin had faded slightly at Jack's strange behavior,  
"Jackaboy! I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop on by!" He tried to sound enthusiastic, eyebrows furrowed as if to say 'Aren't you happy to see me?' Jack could feel his heart clenched a little with guilt, because he  _was_  happy to see his friend- ecstatic even.... He just-… Well…  
He just had been just about to do something awful, and he wasn't sure he could face himself at the moment, much less anyone else.

  
Much less fucking Markiplier, The dorky gamer with a heart of gold. He felt a bit dizzy at the sudden shift in his day to day life, the bland and depressing pattern having been interrupted by his close YouTube friend, "You live in fucking LA!" Jack managed incredulously, "How the hell does one manage to 'just be in the neighborhood' when you live in another country?" Jack's voice came out ever so slightly bitter, he knew this, he didn't intend on sounding that way but... He was confused.  
  
Mark let out a small embarrassed laugh and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, a bit of color dusting his cheeks, "I... I uh.... I was..." Mark paused, before continuing softly "I was a little worried about you, Sean. You haven't been posting much of anything for a few weeks and that's not like you. You're usually very on-schedule, unlike me-" he let out a nervous chuckle "People started to talk and... You weren't replying to anything on social media. I was a little bit scared to be completely honest." Mark said this all in a rush, his eyes downcast and uncharacteristically dark.  
  
Jack felt his heart twist, God, Mark looked so... Sad. Jack didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve someone like Mark looking so sad at the prospect of silly old Jack being gone...

He didn't deserve the friendship of this man, who was trembling violently against the brutal cold out on his doorstep. He didn't deserve this man who was looking at him like he held the world in his hands, he didn't deserve Mark, who seemed strangely ethereal and beautiful in the golden light of the street lamps.

Yet, despite Jack not deserving him, there Mark was, looking like a kicked puppy over Jack going MIA for a bit. It was enough to genuinely choke him up. He shook his head a bit before speaking, "Ya fuckin' idiot..." He mumbled softly, reaching out to grab at the lapels of Mark's coat and pulling the other into a tight embrace, tears threatening to fall at seeing how caring his friend was.

Mark was unresponsive for just a moment, most likely surprised at the sudden turn in events. After a moment, Mark raised his hands to Jacks shoulder blades and pulled him close, some tension falling from his shoulders as he held the other.

And here, in the warmth of Mark's arms, Jack felt a little better. A little warmer, as if he could breathe easier. Some of the empty coldness bled from his bones, and he thought that maybe, at least while his friend was here, everything could be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, okay, I feel like that sucked, but whatever. There are probably mistakes cause I don't have an editor and I type hella fast...
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are appreciated~


	3. Give  me  therapy,  I'm  a  travesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is fluffier than the rest, I think. The end might piss you off though...

Lonely, Chapter 3

Their interactions were awkward and stifled, as if both of them were holding something back. Jack seldom met Mark's eyes, though it was mostly because he knew they would be sad and worried. 

Despite this, he hoped the other knew how much the company meant to him, he felt unstable like a bird with a broken wing, and having mark around was helping. Jack was scared of revealing too much, and didn't want to show how Mark had really saved him, mostly for fear of chasing the other off. 

Jack sunk down on his couch, watching as Mark bustled about, picking up the trash and empty cups around his lounge, most likely trying to do something with his nervous energy. Jack tended to get messy when he was depressed, so his house was more of a stye than usual. 

"So," Mark began awkwardly, his voice flimsy and uncertain "Do.. Do you want to talk about this?" He asked, he didn't seem quite sure what 'this' was, but his expression was vaguely hopeful.

"Talk about what, Mark?" He asked, blatantly playing dumb. His friend wouldn't be wrong in assuming that something was wrong with Jack, hell, there WAS something VERY wrong with Jack, but Jack wasn't going to answer unless Mark said what he meant. It didn't matter anyway, if Mark knew... he would just be upset and probably leave. 

Then everything would do back to being bad, wouldn't it? Everything would spiral.  
"I'm just tired, Mark." Jack said finally, refusing to meet his friend's eyes. 

Mark made a small 'oh' noise as he put down his armful of trash and stepped forwards, kneeling down to meet Jack's low gaze "That's an easy fix, then." He said, his voice soft and gentle, like he was dealing with a small wounded bird, so very careful. 

It was then that he kindly took Jack's hands and pulled the other to his feet, leading a dazed Jack up the stairs and to his own room. It was cold in there, Mark obviously noticed, and startlingly grey. Marks expression when he saw it was worth a thousand words; he pursed his lips into a thin line and gave the room a look like it had personally offended him. 

Jack wanted to joke about it, but he couldn't bring himself to as the warmth from Mark's hands bled through his long pajama sleeves and made him feel a little stronger. Jack was relatively confused the entire time, but allowed Mark to help the other into the messy bed. Suddenly, Jack tensed. 

"You're not going to leave me, are you? You're not going to put me to bed and then leave?" He asked hoarsely, eyes wide with genuine fear. He couldn't... Mark wouldn't do that, right?

Mark's eyes softened and grew warm with sympathy, he kneeled on the bed next to Jack and pulled the covers high up on the other's chest, feeling the cool emptiness coming off of the other man in waves "No, Jack, I promise I'm not leaving you just yet..." He said kindly, hands lingering a bit too long on Jack's shoulders as he stared openly at the other, who still looked a bit like a spooked owlet with his eyes so wide. 

"I'll just be downstairs, and you'll rest. Then everything will be better, alright?" Mark said, seeming as if he were trying to convince himself at this point. He probably wanted the burden of Jack off of his back, so that he could go home. 

Jack clenched his teeth at the thought... If Mark wanted Jack out of his hair, Jack could make that happen. He felt a bitter irritation fill his chest and throat, but even so, He felt heard himself distantly utter the words "Please, stay in here. With me. Just for now." 

Jack's voice came out pathetic, even he himself thought so, and he tried to ignore the overwhelming feelings of self loathing as he listened to Mark speak once again. 

"I..." The other began, seeming for just a moment as if he were going to refuse before he nodded solemnly. Jack watched, slightly awed as his friend sunk down beside him, the warmth from the other seeping into the sheets, it was such a foreign feeling. Having someone this close... Jack hadn't felt it in so long. 

"I'll sit with you until you fall asleep, okay?" Mark stated into the dimly lit room. Jack nodded absently and his eyelids began to grow heavy, though he'd gotten more than enough sleep already. Being depressed would do that to you, it was emotionally exhausting. 

As Jack let the comforting dark consume him completely, the warm feeling of sleep taking over. This was different from the sleep he'd been having for the past week, this was... Safe. 

Distantly, he felt dove-light touch on his cheek, it was rough and heart-wrenchingly tender all at once. Mark's low raspy tone filled the room. Jack couldn't make out the words, but the kind tone made his heart flutter anyway, Marks voice had that affect on him, it calmed him down; and this... It different than anything he'd ever heard before. 

The tone was vulnerable and sweet, but his sleep addled brain couldn't make out the words... it didn't matter though, 

he was sure to forget by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I make the next chapter this same scene from Marks POV? Or just most on with the story...? Hmm.... I don't know.


	4. Gonna roll the dice before you sober up and get gone (I'm always in over my head)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing eventful, but it's fluff. Sue me.  
> Also, my chapter title is long enough to be a FOB song title xD

Jack was sure he has a dream, but by the time he opened his eyes it had faded. The feeling of it, however, lingered. He remembered feeling comforted and warm, like the weight of his problems were lifted off of his shoulders for just a moment. 

He laid amongst he soft sheets reveling in it for a while before he began to realize that the warm feeling was not fading. No, if anything, it as getting stronger as his body began to wake up and notice how close he was to someone else. 

Jack's body tensed noticeably as he inhaled the heavy scent of Mark's cologne, it stained the air and clogged Jack's senses. Jack was sure that he'd never get the smell out of his sheets, though he found that really didn't mind... He would probably forever associate the smell with being happy and content. 

Mark's head was resting on the smaller boy's shoulder and his hand was laying across Jack's chest, making it impossible for Jack to do escape. He quickly came to terms with the fact that he couldn't do much except for sit and wait. Jack didn't mind though, he was admittedly a but happy at the chance to just look at the other...

The world often seemed really dark to Jack, sometimes he felt so unhappy and just couldn't see any out. Yet here, now, he stared at the way the light filtering in through his curtains caught the soft curve of Mark's cheek and... For a little bit, he couldn't feel any of he darkness coming from the world around him... He just felt the warm and bright light of the man laying in front of him. 

Mark's eyelashes shifted just slightly, Jack's awe at the other's beauty was gone in an instant as Mark's eyes opened. Panic filled Jack, constricting his throat. Mark was going to think that Jack was just staring at him as he was sleeping, how fucking creepy is that? 

Tension was palpable in the air as the two Youtubers stared at each other, the entire world seemed to fall silent. Mark didn't seem upset, his eyes were wide like full moons, reflecting a sort of wonder and calmness that caused the stress in Jack's stomach to quickly fall away. 

They were closer than Jack remembered last night, though that was probably because when you were asleep, you seemed to gravitate towards anyone that you were remotely near. It seemed that at their core, everyone wanted to be close to others. When you were asleep, there was no logic there to keep you from cuddling close to your friend and staring into their eyes like you were living in a gay romance 

This was Jack's excuse for why he wasn't pulling away from Mark's warmth, why he wasn't shrinking away from the other's face. He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were itching for him to reach up and touch. Mark's hair, Mark's face, Mark's stubble... He clenched his fists and let out a shaky laugh, trying to not think of how hard it was for him to keep from cupping his friend's cheek.

The small laugh in his throat grew and bubbled until he leaned forwards and giggled at the ridiculousness of it all for a moment, because he was here just thinking about groping his friend's face.

Mark stared at him for a moment more with the same calm expression before it shattered and gave way to a stifled grin, and then the stifled grin gave way to his long low infectious laugh. Both boys were giggling now, squirming slightly and grinning at each other as if nothing else mattered. 

They laughed until their sides hurt, but it eventually subsided, leaving them both a bit loopy and generally contented. Jack was the first to break the eye contact, his gaze dropping to the bed as he drew in a long breath, filling his lungs which ached in the best kind of way. 

"You didn't leave..." Jack said, smiling softly. His friend had planned to go as soon as Jack fell asleep and yet... Well, he just woke up in bed with Mark. He stifled a light giggle at the thought. 

"Yeah, I really couldn't bring myself to leave. You were all snuggled up to me and comfortable. Moving you would be like trying to get up with my dog asleep on my lap; I can't disturb them without feeling all shitty inside." Mark explained softly, the remnants of sleep making him more honest as he regarded the other gently. 

Jack blushed at this and turned away, sitting up and breaking the spell completely as he stood and stretched his weary muscles, he was okay. Everything felt okay. He breathed in and out easily before turning to look at Mark. 

"You're going to be in Ireland for a while?" Jack asked after a long period of silence, Mark nodded his head minutely in reply. Jack smirked slightly at this, cracking his knuckles in anticipation "Alright, since you're gonna be here, It's my duty as an Irishman to show you the bars." He said, chuckling under his breath slightly. 

Mark stared at him for a long moment, the Korean was smiling but it seemed unsure. Mark was most likely not trusting the other's cheery demeanor so soon after Jack seemed so upset. Mark seemed to eventually decide that Jack was fine after all, because he smiled and nodded slightly  
"I think I would like that."

\----

The bar was dimly lit, filled with the vague sent of alcohol and sweat. It was a Friday and it was completely packed, too many people, the scent was too strong, the music too loud. Jack knew it like the back of his hand, and he only grimaced slightly as he walked in, while Mark looked like he'd just swallowed a slug. 

"Not enjoying the scenery?" Jack drawled, drawing his brows together questioningly as he smirked smugly. Yeah, not many other people took this place well, call him sadistic but he liked bringing newbies to the most lewd places he could. 

Mark's face contorted as he forced a smile "It's... Good?" He said questioningly. Jack laughed loudly, his face flushing slightly as he leaned back onto the bar, snickering at the other 

"Alright, light weight. Let me show you the drinks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to do a chapter a week but... Well, I'm a lazy ass so this is a week late. In my defense, I'm sick as a dog.  
> I'm sorry for the wait.... It's a little longer than usual so I hope that makes up for it?  
> I still love you all.


	5. Drinking won't get you out of my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A darker chapter, similar to the first one. It has drinking in it, and that's about it. I hope I did a good job portraying the feelings. Also, Mark's POV! 
> 
> TW: Suicidal thoughts(?)

Time passed in a blur of strange new flavors and loud music. It wasn't long before Mark was swaying on his feet and laughing at everything, his mind was filled with cotton. His thoughts were pleasantly warm and fuzzy, muddled by alcohol.

The lack of logic made him want to do something stupid, like sing to the entire bar or go and flirt with everything that had a pulse, but he kept his mind off of that by focusing on his friend.  
Jack obviously held his alcohol better, he was leaning against the bar and simply staring at the other warmly in a way that Mark hadn't seen before, one that he was for some reason fixated on, because Jack didn't look at anyone like that...

As Mark met the gaze, his throat got a bit tight and he couldn't quite focus. It was raw and... real, like a the upbeat mask that Jack usually wore was completely gone, leaving something smoldering and forceful in his eyes that filled Mark's chest and left him breathless.  
Mark decided that he liked the look, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, like he was the most important person in the entire world. Not to mention it made his heart inexplicably pound in his chest, his whole being suddenly hummed with the need to be close to his friend. 

Distantly, Mark knew he was walking towards the other and leaning up against Jack on the edge of the bar. He knew doing this was a bad idea, but he felt a strange part of himself urging him to get closer to the other, to feel the warmth he had felt in the morning, when he'd opened his eyes to the small Irish man clinging to him.  
"Jaaaaaaack." Mark said drunkenly, now leaning close to the other in a way that resembled a cat pressing close to their owner's leg, or something of the sort. His side was flush against Jack's, as if he couldn't stand space between them. He blamed it fully on the alcohol. 

Mark tipped his head to the side and tucked it into Jack's neck, giving his friend no explanation or excuse for his behavior. It was a haze he only snapped out of when Jack flinched away from his touch. 

The pleasant fog in Mark's head was overcome by a pang of hurt at Jack's reaction. Though he really didn't know why he felt like that, it wasn't as if Jack had done anything that should offend him.  
But even though it shouldn't offend him, it did. The fact that Jack had cringed away, like Mark's touch had... Repulsed him, or something, made Mark's chest twist itself into knots. 

It was the drink's fault. The alcohol had made Mark want to feel the presence of Jack... or maybe it was the fear that he'd been feeling over the past week, but magnified by alcohol.  
The fear of losing his friend was what had been bothering him. Yes, that had to be the reason he wanted to hold Jack close like he had this morning. That must be why he felt so fiercely protective and affectionate. 

"Jack?" Mark said softly, his voice was meek and unsure, as if asking a question with his voice. Jack never pushed him away... He felt inexplicably fearful for his friend all over again. Mark found himself thinking back to when he arrived to Jack's house, and he'd been speaking to his friend from the doorway, something had felt off. 

He hadn't known why at the time, but when Mark heard Jack's exhausted voice, and he saw the distance in his friend's eyes, he felt fear. Fear and concern. Mostly because exhaustion and distance were two things he didn't see on his Jack's face... Ever. Mark was calmed after Jack had slept for a while, he had seemed better, but now...

Now that warm look from earlier was gone, replaced by a dark conflicted one, and Mark wished he could understand it. Well, he actually might be beginning to understand what was happening to the bright-eyed YouTuber that he held so dear... but he hoped he was wrong. 

Jack was silent, and Mark watched distantly as the other turned away and sunk down onto a dirty bar stool, his friend's eyes were cast down as if he couldn't bring himself to look directly at Mark anymore. 

Mark sunk down in the seat next to his friend, still concerned as he leaned forward to look at the other. Jack's head was still slumped forward slightly, and he was gripping a glass of whiskey. It had gotten to the point where Jack had probably had too much alcohol. 

As Jack threw back more shots, Mark's concern only grew, but he didn't reach out to stop the other until he could hear Jack's breath slow a bit, like his lungs were too heavy.  
"Jack?" Mark said quietly, trying to stall the other "Jack stop, that's not... Why won't you put it down? You need to stop. " He said this firmly, reaching out to put his hand on the glass in his friend's grip. 

Jack looked up then, cloudy blue eyes slowly lifting to meet dark brown. "Stop?" He said quietly, a small grimace twisting his lips slightly. Mark's heart felt like it was in his throat, had he caused this? This weird breakdown of sorts that Jack seemed to be having. 

Jack's weird behavior started after Mark had closed that wretched piece of distance that often hung between him and his friend. The distance that taunted Mark, the one that he always wanted to be rid of... And he had done it with the help of alcohol and adrenaline, but this was the outcome... a cold and upset Jack. 

"Oh, Mark." Came Jack's soft voice as he ran his thumb along the lip of the glass that he was gripping, face still twisted with emotion. Jack's filter was gone, the shots had made sure of that, and Mark almost didn't want to hear what he was going to say in this state. It didn't seem good. 

"You think this will kill me?" Jack asked, seeing past his friend's facade. Mark's heart sunk, because yeah, he was afraid. He was afraid that his friend was going to poison himself. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he needed to make Jack aware of how much he was drinking so that he'd stop. 

Jack took a long breath before frowning "You want to know why I won't stop?" He mumbled softly, voice almost inaudible over the dull roar of the chatter-filled bar "Because maybe... Maybe I'm hoping it will kill me."

Mark's stomach dropped to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos always appreciated, I'd love if someone could tell me how I did with getting the dark emotions across in the comments... ^^


	6. I want to see your face (and know I made it home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I updated on time! Are you proud? ARE YOU FUCKING PROUD? Sorry, it's like 4 am, let's just get into the fic.

Jack really isn't a person who's used to people caring for him, he's never had that luxury. He isn't used to someone being worried when he's hurting, or someone who patches up his wounds when he does something stupid... 

That sort of affection isn't something he really has, or something he ever dreams of having. Nobody thinks of him that way, and it's unlikely anyone will ever give a shit what happens to him. 

Because of this, when Mark throws a handful of dollar bills down on the counter to pay for Jack's drinks and practically drags him outside.... His mind immediately decides that Mark must be trying to get away from Jack. It doesn't come as a surprise to the smaller man, nobody really ever wants to stay with him once they see his other side, the one that he keeps so well hidden. 

Mark obviously can see what a mess he is now, and there's no way that anyone would stay while knowing that. Jack has fucked it up, his one chance at....  
At what?  
What has Jack been hoping for with Mark? Honestly, he couldn't tell you. 

Mark pushes open the door of the bar and unceremoniously drags the other outside, Jack shivers immediately against the vicious wave of cold air that worms itself beneath his skin and seeps into his bones. 

It's so fucking cold in this god forsaken place, Jack often forgets what it's like to feel warm. Maybe that's why he values Mark's presence so much? Because Mark makes him remember? Or maybe Jack is just devoid of human contact and clings to Mark. 

It's going to be bad when he loses his friend, Jack has been holding onto Mark for the past few days, using him as a sort of shelter... Using him as someone to lean on... and now Mark is going to run away. Mark is going to leave Jack, and the Irishmen knows he is going to fall without the support. Without Mark he is going to crash and burn. 

And fall he does, but not in the way he had expected. Mark crumbles to the ground outside of the bar, taking Jack with him. Jack has been so lost in thought that he isn't able to stop himself from tumbling to his knees jarringly in front of his friend, who has also found himself in the same position. 

They stay silent for a moment, both staring at each other in a stunned manner. It's a clear night, and the wind is blowing strongly, but neither one stands or looks away. 

Mark's features contort as he stares at his friend, going from a relatively placid expression to one of anguish. The Korean lifts his hand to Jack's cheek, cupping it in a way that is both gentle and forceful, like he needs to be touching the other to ground himself, to convince himself that Jack was still there. 

"You don't mean that... You don't mean what you said," Mark rasps, sounding more like he's trying to convince himself than anything else... Jack feels guilt constrict his throat and he tries to speak to the other around the lump of emotion forming there, but fails. Tears blur his vision and he swallows thickly, trying to calm. As Mark sees this his expression darkens. 

"Say it, Jack! Tell me, God, please just fucking tell me that you didn't mean it..." Mark is pleading now, his other hand coming up to cup Jack's face as he pitches forwards slightly, almost unable to hold himself up. 

Jack is silent for another beat before easily rattling off what he knew Mark needed to hear "I... I didn't mean it. I'm just stressed, Markimoo, that's all." He says, his lips curving up in a comforting manner, but he knows it doesn't reach his eyes. Nobody looks, but nothing reaches his eyes these days, if anyone met his empty stare they would see his gaze always seems distant and numb.

Mark is obviously relieved, he slumps forwards against the other and hugs his friend loosely. Jack can feel the Korean trembling against him, but he chooses to believe it's from the cold. 

"God dammit, Jack. Don't scare me like that. I'm... I'm going to call a cab." Mark breathes softly, leaning back again and pulling out his phone, numb fingers moving easily about the screen as he pulls up his app. Jack's gaze falls to the sidewalk, he stares at his knees which are resting against the concrete. 

It hurts, he notices, the cement easily bites through his jeans and pricks the sensitive skin underneath, but he doesn't move. The feeling is grounding, if anything, and he needs that right now. Mark doesnt want to see what's wrong with him, it seems. 

Maybe he didn't want to be inconvenienced that way, or maybe he didn't want to feel the guilt that would come along with some of the things that Jack may do... but it was clear that Mark was going to be heavily burdened by the other if he found out. 

Jack didn't want to weigh down his friend, or anyone, for that matter, but there was only one way he could think of not burdening anyone, and It would just make Mark feel guilty. 

That guilt would fade though, and eventually Mark might end up being relieved if he was rid of Jack... It was all very confusing. The Irishmen just wanted to be done with it all, but even that was supposedly a bad option. 

The entire drive home, Jack feels painfully conflicted, be it because of his guilt over his thoughts, or general feelings of frustration at how to stop bothering his friend.... He can't stop squirming in his seat, feeling suffocated by the cramped car. Mark is sitting too close, the heating is up too high. 

He leans against the window, his cheek pressed flush to the cold glass. It stole some of the heat from his hunched figure, which calmed him a little. He just wanted to clear his head. 

So many thoughts roared in his mind, drowning out any reason or logic. Amongst the din he hears the voices of those who'd left him before, and the voices of his fans, speaking of how he had let them down once again. 

He hears his family, their soft words of concern grinding on his nerves, making him want to scream, because they never listened, no matter how good their intentions were. 

And loudest of all, roaring above all of the other voices, were the lies he'd spoken to Mark only moments earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay? If you enjoyed, Comments are really appreciated, those give me motivation to keep on going. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> And I hope that shitty thing that's is currently going on in your life ends soon. Love you guys~


	7. New chapter coming soon!

Okay guys,   
I apologize for taking so long to get a new chapter up.   
My excuse is that I've writing a pretty hefty 4K fic for the past few weeks, I uploaded it a few days ago and it got some feedback. Not much, though the feedback I got back was exactly what I wanted, It seemed to invoke the kind of emotions in people that I was hoping for. Despite this, lack of feedback is always is disappointing when you put a lot of yourself into a fic, but I understand because I'm a beginning writer and my fics aren't really the greatest yet.   
I'm mostly posting this because I want to give you guys a choice with this fic. I could probably end it off in a nice fluffy way that wouldn't take too long, and you wouldn't have to wait for updates as much. Or, I could give you guys what I originally planned, the full drawn out, graphic and depressing plot that will eventually resolve itself in a fluffier way, however that will take longer chapters and you light have to wait a bit longer. I have muse for it, but again, I tend to lose motivation easily... Anyways, point is, you can vote in the comments if you want, maybe suggest some plot ideas if you'd like. 

As always, I appreciate you all reading and commenting, and I love you all ^^


	8. Right now could last forever, Just as long as I'm with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually fluff. There's literally no ow. I don't know why, but the dark stuff wouldn't come when I sat down to write this chapter so... Here's some really fluffy domestic bullshit??
> 
> Also, I apologize for not uploading for a while. I'll try to do better~

Mark doesn't ask about Jack's breakdown, And Jack doesn't attempt to explain.  
The two easily fall back into the familiar cycle of dancing around each other and growing uncomfortably close. It's frustrating, but even so, Jack finds himself enjoying the moments in between. 

Outside of the whirlwind of drama and hurt, he finds happiness in the wild locks of Mark's hair in the morning; tussled into disarray by sleep, Or when the other lays in Jack's bed with him after he complains that the sheets are too cold. He feels that joy when he makes breakfast in the morning and cooks enough for two, because this time there's someone to eat with him. 

Jack has someone to laugh with when the silence gets too loud, someone to watch movies with late at night, and someone to hold his hands when they grow devoid of heat. 

Because of these moments, finds himself smiling too much. Losing himself in the other, and feeling something besides aching emptiness in his chest.  
Mark never mentions leaving, not even when the week is coming to an end. Jack doesn't ask about it, and Mark simply acts like he'll be able to stay with Jack forever. 

Strangely enough, Jack is fine with that. 

\------

Jack is folding laundry when he realizes it.

He's pulling out his flannel sheets; finally preparing for winter after all this time, and Mark comes in from the other room. The Korean is wearing a small contented smile and his clothes are rumpled, as if he had just finished editing and is finally able to stretch his limbs after sitting for hours. 

"You could at least help me with the chores if you're gonna be here, you ass." Jack grumbled, sparing a quick glance at the other as he worked. He attempted to sound angry, but his tone was far too affectionate to be taken seriously. 

"Mm, I don't think so." Mark rumbles, his voice a little deeper and more contented than usual as he leans back against the wall, seeming all too self-satisfied. Jack just scoffs and continues his chore, creasing the folds easily like his mom taught him to. 

"You're very good at this, What a lovely housewife you'd make." Mark muses, knowing how to push the other's buttons. His eyes are half-lidded and warm as he watches the Irishman.

"Don't be a sexist piece of shit, Mark. I can fold laundry and still can your ass." 

Mark easily snatches the warm flannel sheets from Jack's hands and smirks, "You wish you could can my ass." 

Jack sighed slightly, reaching out for the sheet only to have Mark tug it out of his reach  
"That doesn't even make sense, Mark. You're just trying to make it sound sexual." Jack snapped in reply, getting frustrated. He just wanted to finish his laundry in peace, was that too much to ask?

"Awe, Am I making Jackaboy mad?" Mark cooed, stepping forwards and pulling his friend close to his chest, wrapping the warm sheets tightly around the both of them, "Don't be angry, you know you love me."

Jack clenched his teeth, trying his best to ignore how they had been pressed flush against each other, or how Mark's arms were wrapped closely around Jack's scrawny shoulders.  
"Fuck you, Mark." Jack snapped, attempting to shuffle backwards and away from the other, the proximity was making all sorts of strange feelings bubble in his chest that he didn't even want to think about. 

Mark grinned wolfishly, "You wish." Was all he uttered as he leaned backwards slightly.  
The next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. Mark didn't seem to realize that they were both connected by the sheet, so when he leaned back he managed to unbalance the two enough to send them both, in all their blanketed glory, down into the pile of clean clothes on the floor. 

"God dammit, Mark!" Jack snapped, shattering the stunned silence that had fallen over the two. Thankfully, they had managed to fall safely without any bruised or twisted limbs. 

"Why couldn't you just let me be productive for once, you ass?" Jack asked, smiling gently as he struggled to collect himself after their tumble. They were still close as they had landed still wrapped up in the sheet, but not so close that it fried Jack's brain. 

"Don't be mad at me," Mark murmured, looking at the other with a profound sort of affection in his eyes, a vast change from his earlier attitude.  
"I just missed you. I hadn't seen you all day, you don't come to visit me when I edit!" Mark said petulantly, shifting slightly on the small bed of linen. 

Jack found himself smiling at that, He was still a little annoyed at Mark being so high maintenance over nothing, but the thought of the other missing him so much that he'd dragged them down into the clean clothing just to cuddle made Jack feel stupidly happy, Like a child being favored their crush. 

Bad comparison? Probably. 

Jack didn't mind, though. He made no move to shift away as Mark began to snuggle up to the other once again. "We can't stay here, you know." Jack mumbled, referring to the strange spot they'd found themselves it.  
Jack had to admit, he really wouldn't mind remaining in this spot, the clothes smelled of lavender and the heat from the dryer that still lingered made it so easy to just melt into the warm comfort of it all. 

But they had to get up or Jack would have to deal with the mess later, they'd probably wrinkle all of the freshly laundered shirts...  
Jack's thoughts were interrupted by a soft snore next to him. "God dammit Mark..." Jack grumbled, turning to look at his friend who had managed to doze off. 

Jack immediately knew that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon with this big oaf curled up against his side. The Irishman let out a soft sigh and shifted into his side, easily tossing an arm over the other's shoulder and practically wrapping himself around his friend to get comfortable.

Their faces were close now, but Jack didn't worry about the proximity now that Mark was asleep.  
This was the second time Jack got a chance to study his friend's features this week, and he sure as hell wasn't complaining.  
Mark's jaw was slack, and his entire face was completely devoid of any expression except for contentment. He looked so incredibly vulnerable and child-like that Jack wanted nothing more than to cradle the other to his chest and protect him from the brutality of the world. 

All people are beautiful when they sleep, they lose the worry-lines that etch their face when they're awake, becoming something much more captivating. Mark is no exception, he becomes almost angelic when all the stress of his lifestyle melts away, leaving him in his purest form. 

Jack's breath hitches as it hits him. 

He loves Mark, he realizes in that moment. He cares for Mark and he has this overwhelming urge to hold the other, an acute desire to stay with his friend forever. It was undeniable, he had this fervent feeling in his chest, this ache, and it wasn't going away. 

Falling in love isn't a conscious thing, Jack finds, it happens slowly, bit by bit, until it culminates into something huge and terrifying. Something that you can't ignore. A completely harmless seed of affection that blossoms into something dangerous. You don't feel it happening until you get a chance to really look at how you feel. 

And without knowing, Jack had allowed his feelings for Mark to grow like that. 

Now he is here, laying in a pile of hot fabric, with something huge and unafraid pulsing in his chest, something that he couldn't tame if he wanted to. Jack loves Mark. 

He should be panicking, Jack knows that. This should be awful news, but he isn't as jarred by it as he should be.  
This all has been growing for so long that he's gotten used to these feelings, and now, even filled with that tragic and beautiful urgency, he doesn't want to ruin this moment. 

So instead of running away, or putting as much space between himself and Mark as possible, Jack simply leans forwards to rest his forehead gently against Mark's and closes his eyes.  
This was a moment in between all of the madness and the hurt that they'd been enduring, and Jack wasn't going to risk cutting it short. He was going to lose himself in it, because right now, here with Mark,

This was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know how I managed to write something so happy but... Whatever. I hope you enjoyed that little bit of a break from the ow, you're gonna get quite a bit of that soon.


	9. Where did our home go? I don't know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, guess what? I'm not dead!  
> This chapter was a lot of forcing myself to listen to sad music and get myself in the mood, but I managed to get it down. It's a little shorter than normal because I'm trying to get myself back into the swing of things.

_Before Mark knocked on Jack's door..._

Mark shuts the window harshly, stifling the earthy scent of the LA night air.  
He's been making videos all day, so he's genuinely looking forward to just sitting down and fucking around on social media, allowing himself to completely relax.

Sinking down in his chair, Mark immediately flips open his laptop and heads to tumblr, hoping to interact with his fans before he goes to bed.  
Connecting to them is often a pretty fun part of his day, or, it is as long as he doesn't have to go around diffusing bullshit drama.

Usually when he's on tumblr, the most he does is go on his own tag and lurk around - okay, he's a little vain - but today he decides to scroll through his dashboard like an actual normal user of the site.

Since he doesn't follow any fan bloggers, he has a strange medley of fact posts and actual YouTuber blogs on his dashboard. He follows just about everyone of his friends who have a tumblr account, just for the hell of it.

The post that catches his attention as he scrolls is from Cryaotic, someone who he doesn't know terribly well, but followed on a whim due to how close the guy is to Felix. Mark's breath catches in his throat as he reads the title,

**"Suicide. The warning signs and risk factors."**

_"Jesus."_ He hisses to himself, wondering distantly why someone would post something so depressing - Although it's probably good to educate people, he just wasn't expecting to see it.

He draws in a shuddery breath as he scrolls down the post, grip tightening on the edge of his desk. It hurts to look at the article, seeing the outcome of someone who's so thoroughly given up, but he forces himself to read along for the sake of knowing the information - who knows? It may prove itself useful someday down the road.

He really hopes it doesn't.

About halfway through, Mark finds these signs reminding him of someone, and the thought makes him sick with sudden worry.

 _Withdrawal._ That's the first one that causes his heart to stutter. People considering suicide are known for drawing back from those they care about, pushing people away and disappearing.  
Jack hasn't published a video for... How long now? He loves his fans, and Mark hasn't really thought about it until this moment, but surely he's not disappearing from the Internet for no reason, right?

The thought makes him read along a little faster.

 _Sleeping too much or too little._ Nothing new, that's always been Jack. Always working until he physically can't anymore, staying up until he sees the sun, that's just how his friend is, but... What if it's something more and Mark's been missing it?

Mark's throat tightens painfully as his eyes skim across the list because they're hitting too close to home. Too many of them sound like his friend, and God, it's terrifying.

 _Talking about being a burden._ This one isn't as quickly apparent as all of the others, Mark squints at it for a moment, feeling relieved because this sign doesn't fit Jack. There's hope, his friend doesn't fit the bill perfectly.  
Yet, after a moments thought, Mark recalls how profusely Jack apologizes whenever he initiates a Skype call, telling Mark that he doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to talk. How Mark always has to smile understandingly and gently explain to Jack that Mark enjoys their Skype calls and that he wouldn't call the other so much if he didn't.  
How that awful conflicted look never quite fades from Jack's face.

Tears prick Mark's eyes as he furiously continues to scroll through the list, finding very few signs that he doesn't immediately connect to his friend.

These can't be right, Jack is _happy_ , the happiest person that Mark knows, he can't be... He can't....

Mark tells himself this, but he knows he's wrong. He knows from experience that the happiest people can be dying on the inside, and nobody would know.

This is the thought sticking in his mind like a wad of gum as he opens a new browser, and searches the quickest flight to Ireland in the next 24 hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you know how he got there!  
> Bet you thought I'd just leave that as a plot hole, huh?


End file.
